Irhya Pendhula (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
omnicrafter) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
middaeg2019-12-02 03:45 am
omnicrafter) wrote in middaeg2019-12-02 03:45 am
Entry tags:
[open + closed]
Who: Irhya, friends, and a few open prompts!
When: Deceuer
Where: Various places
What: Catch-all log
Warnings: Probable descriptions of blood, will update with anything else
[On Deceuer 4th, Irhya does not get out of bed like she normally would.
From a distance, it appears as if she chose to sleep in late this day, but that slumber continues on well into the evening and beyond. Upon inspection, her body is icy, and she does not appear to be breathing.
She remains this way until well into the small hours of the morning on the 5th.]
#1: Deceuer 5th: for Crystal Exarch
[There is a beating in her ears she is quite sure cannot be her own, given the circumstances. It feels like an ever-strengthening headache, but her mouth also tastes dry and raw with overdue thirst.
Thirst for what? She isn't stupid. She knows what's happening, but she hadn't expected it to be this overpowering. It's the middle of the godsdamned night, for that matter, and there's no one about to help her -- perhaps that's a good thing, however, as she can't be certain of her capacity not to just jump the next living person she sees. And she knows she's probably telecasting all kinds of distress signals through her Bonds, but that'll have to wait.
Why she came to their house, she isn't quite certain. Maybe just a dim internalized hope one of them will find her out here and decide to take pity on her. Irhya makes it as far as moving her feet heavily up the front stairs before she hesitates, wiping cold sweat from her brow. She sets a hand on the banister for support and stops, rethinking everything for the umpteenth time. Maybe she really is just better off preying on some stranger in the city; she hasn't the patience or energy to seduce them right now like she'd planned. But then... if anyone found out about it...
Fuck. She really is screwed, isn't she. But without a decision, and soon, it's only supposed to get worse until the need can't be contained by mortal will anymore.]
#2: Deceuer 5th: for housemates
[The door opens sometime into the early morning, revealing one very discontent miqo'te.
The clawing desire for blood has since been sated, one way or another, but now she's broadcasting upset of a different kind, the tears-into-her-pillow sort. She hasn't the energy to carry herself upstairs, so instead she travels the shorter distance into the kitchen, pulls out a chair, and buries her face in her arms over the table, cursing quietly into it.]
I cannot fucking believe this... What the bloody hells is wrong with me?
#3: Deceuer 7th-8th: for Thancred
[It's been a few days. Time has calmed her down, but the realization is still somewhat sore for her. She ought to take it slow, she realizes, but as ill-prepared as she'd been for the first one, perhaps it's better to get everything in order to prevent future... incidents.
Thancred had offered. Thancred had been willing to listen to her stupid idea, probably knowing full well it was a stupid idea but seemingly willing to consider it anyway. Perhaps if he were still amenable to it now that the reality is imminent...
The messaging function of the mirror is peculiar, but handy, especially when she isn't certain how he'll react. Irhya decides to put it to good use.]
Can we talk? Something came up.
That thing I mentioned was going to happen a while ago? It happened.
#4: Anytime in Deceuer: OPEN
[In an adjacent room to the soup kitchen, Irhya has set up her workshop. It's purposely placed so that anyone going inside has to pass by it to reach their destination, and perhaps grab their attention in the process. The sign outside the door says: Feeling creative? Help us repair and recycle old items!
Inside, there's a large table in the center, and a pile of broken or worn clothing and toys in the middle of it, surrounded by various repair tools: wrenches, screwdrivers, pliers, paints, sandpaper, sewing thread and needles, polish... the list goes on.
It's inevitable that people would donate junk thinking it was charity, but she's determined to quality check the existing stock, to see that at least some of it doesn't go to waste. Anyone is encouraged to stop by and help, or perhaps add more to the pile if they so desire.]
#5: Anytime in Deceuer: OPEN
[At other times, she's teaching the Dorchacht refugees a few basics in self-defense . While she specializes in using steel weaponry, swords in particular, they're too impractical for your average layman to carry around all the time, and so she has downsized to daggers and bare-handed techniques.
It's pretty basic stuff: how to get out of various types of grips; places on the body that are most effective to hit, with or without really hurting someone; how to conceal a knife, and various safety measures for having one on your person; even a few tips on how to deal with someone slinging spells at you from afar.
Eventually, she tries pairing people up to practice, but decides it might be better to have two experienced fighters demonstrate first when it appears the refugees are hesitant. If you look at all like you could hold your own in combat, she'll be calling you from afar and waving you over.]
Hey! I don't suppose you'd like to help me demonstrate some self-defense techniques, would you? On me, I mean. Or on you, whichever.
[She shrugs. Very convincing.]
When: Deceuer
Where: Various places
What: Catch-all log
Warnings: Probable descriptions of blood, will update with anything else
[On Deceuer 4th, Irhya does not get out of bed like she normally would.
From a distance, it appears as if she chose to sleep in late this day, but that slumber continues on well into the evening and beyond. Upon inspection, her body is icy, and she does not appear to be breathing.
She remains this way until well into the small hours of the morning on the 5th.]
#1: Deceuer 5th: for Crystal Exarch
[There is a beating in her ears she is quite sure cannot be her own, given the circumstances. It feels like an ever-strengthening headache, but her mouth also tastes dry and raw with overdue thirst.
Thirst for what? She isn't stupid. She knows what's happening, but she hadn't expected it to be this overpowering. It's the middle of the godsdamned night, for that matter, and there's no one about to help her -- perhaps that's a good thing, however, as she can't be certain of her capacity not to just jump the next living person she sees. And she knows she's probably telecasting all kinds of distress signals through her Bonds, but that'll have to wait.
Why she came to their house, she isn't quite certain. Maybe just a dim internalized hope one of them will find her out here and decide to take pity on her. Irhya makes it as far as moving her feet heavily up the front stairs before she hesitates, wiping cold sweat from her brow. She sets a hand on the banister for support and stops, rethinking everything for the umpteenth time. Maybe she really is just better off preying on some stranger in the city; she hasn't the patience or energy to seduce them right now like she'd planned. But then... if anyone found out about it...
Fuck. She really is screwed, isn't she. But without a decision, and soon, it's only supposed to get worse until the need can't be contained by mortal will anymore.]
#2: Deceuer 5th: for housemates
[The door opens sometime into the early morning, revealing one very discontent miqo'te.
The clawing desire for blood has since been sated, one way or another, but now she's broadcasting upset of a different kind, the tears-into-her-pillow sort. She hasn't the energy to carry herself upstairs, so instead she travels the shorter distance into the kitchen, pulls out a chair, and buries her face in her arms over the table, cursing quietly into it.]
I cannot fucking believe this... What the bloody hells is wrong with me?
#3: Deceuer 7th-8th: for Thancred
[It's been a few days. Time has calmed her down, but the realization is still somewhat sore for her. She ought to take it slow, she realizes, but as ill-prepared as she'd been for the first one, perhaps it's better to get everything in order to prevent future... incidents.
Thancred had offered. Thancred had been willing to listen to her stupid idea, probably knowing full well it was a stupid idea but seemingly willing to consider it anyway. Perhaps if he were still amenable to it now that the reality is imminent...
The messaging function of the mirror is peculiar, but handy, especially when she isn't certain how he'll react. Irhya decides to put it to good use.]
Can we talk? Something came up.
That thing I mentioned was going to happen a while ago? It happened.
#4: Anytime in Deceuer: OPEN
[In an adjacent room to the soup kitchen, Irhya has set up her workshop. It's purposely placed so that anyone going inside has to pass by it to reach their destination, and perhaps grab their attention in the process. The sign outside the door says: Feeling creative? Help us repair and recycle old items!
Inside, there's a large table in the center, and a pile of broken or worn clothing and toys in the middle of it, surrounded by various repair tools: wrenches, screwdrivers, pliers, paints, sandpaper, sewing thread and needles, polish... the list goes on.
It's inevitable that people would donate junk thinking it was charity, but she's determined to quality check the existing stock, to see that at least some of it doesn't go to waste. Anyone is encouraged to stop by and help, or perhaps add more to the pile if they so desire.]
#5: Anytime in Deceuer: OPEN
[At other times, she's teaching the Dorchacht refugees a few basics in self-defense . While she specializes in using steel weaponry, swords in particular, they're too impractical for your average layman to carry around all the time, and so she has downsized to daggers and bare-handed techniques.
It's pretty basic stuff: how to get out of various types of grips; places on the body that are most effective to hit, with or without really hurting someone; how to conceal a knife, and various safety measures for having one on your person; even a few tips on how to deal with someone slinging spells at you from afar.
Eventually, she tries pairing people up to practice, but decides it might be better to have two experienced fighters demonstrate first when it appears the refugees are hesitant. If you look at all like you could hold your own in combat, she'll be calling you from afar and waving you over.]
Hey! I don't suppose you'd like to help me demonstrate some self-defense techniques, would you? On me, I mean. Or on you, whichever.
[She shrugs. Very convincing.]
no subject
As the Warrior of Light, you are used to fighting on alone, with no one's life to spend but your own. [It's a gentle statement, hardly an admonishment.] But you are surrounded by people who care for you, who would fight for you. When the struggle becomes insurmountable, you must let them—let us...
[He falters for a moment, resting a bit more on her than is perhaps necessary. But after a second he realizes it and tries to straighten, if only a little, so he isn't depending on the smaller Miqo'te to hold him up.]
M-my apologies—
no subject
Only if you do.
[Delivered in a flat tone that denotes the irony of who that statement is coming from, but she slips her hands around his after the fact, small though they are.]
You're as bad as I am, you know. If you're having trouble, let me bring you inside and get you a drink of water or something.
no subject
Hah... 'Twould seem I am in need of my own medicine. [He holds onto her shoulder, though not tightly enough to hurt, just to keep from falling over.] I am fine, simply lightheaded. I think a glass of water would be grand.
If we are quiet, we need not wake the others.
[His staff is still leaning beside the door.]
Will you be all right on your own, Irhya?